A Hopeful Heart (20 page)

Tressa leaned back as far as the hard plank of wood behind her shoulders allowed. Twisting her face to avoid his, she released little grunts of protest. Suddenly he gave her hair a yank that made her cry out, and then his lips closed over hers. He held her tight, one hand in her hair, the other at her waist. She pressed her fists uselessly against his chest.

The kiss increased in pressure, grinding her lips against her own teeth. The contact hurt, and she whimpered. Helpless against his strength, Tressa sagged into his arms and prayed for deliverance.

20

Abel scooped another serving of beans onto his plate. When Aunt Hattie had indicated there would be food a-plenty, she hadn’t fibbed. He, Ethan, and Cole were eating like kings even without having won one of the lunch baskets. From their long faces, he guessed his ranch hands weren’t enjoying the meal as much as he was, but that was their problem. A full belly was a full belly, company of a lovely lady or not.

He dropped the serving spoon back in the pot and reached for a crusty corn muffin. Just as his fingers closed around it, Aunt Hattie bustled to his side.

“Abel, I could use your help.”

“What do you need?”

“I sent my men out an’ about to round up all the guests so our dancin’ can start, but I forgot about throwing sawdust on the dance floor.” She twisted her face into a grimace. “Don’t want nobody slidin’ on them new boards and gettin’ hurt.”

Abel glanced at the white-planked wood floor waiting in the middle of the yard. At the Hammonds’ yearly pit roast, they just danced on a piece of canvas spread in the grass. Aunt Hattie had gone full-out for this courting party. Abel put his plate on the edge of the table. “Where’s the sawdust?”

“Burlap sack of it in the tack room at the rear o’ the barn. Would’ja fetch it for me?” Without waiting for a reply, she spun and trotted toward the porch, where Brewster Hammond and his cook were standing in the shade.

Chuckling, Abel aimed his feet for the barn. That Aunt Hattie . . . she knew what she wanted and she got it done. Long strides carried him through the barn door opening, but he skidded to a halt when a soft moan reached his ears.

Squinting into the shadowy barn, he looked left and right, seeking the source of the sound. He gulped when he spotted a couple locked in an embrace against the wall of the corner stall. Embarrassment struck him like a sledgehammer. He started to hurry on past, but a pair of wide, pale blue eyes met his over the shoulder of the cowboy.

He knew those eyes, and he also knew fear when he saw it. Balling his hands into fists, he barked, “What’s goin’ on here?”

The cowboy angled his body sideways but curled his hands around the top rail, creating a barrier that held Tressa in place. He released a low chuckle. “Aw, Abel, you wouldn’t interfere in a good time now, would’ja?”

Abel experienced a jab of fury when he recognized Gage Hammond. Behind Gage, Tressa’s chest heaved. Her pale face and tear-filled eyes didn’t paint a picture of a woman having a good time. “Gage, let ’er go.”

“But I was just gettin’ my dessert. I paid for it, wouldn’t ya say?” Gage ran one finger down Tressa’s arm from her shoulder to her elbow. She whimpered, recoiling from his touch.

Abel charged forward and grabbed Gage’s shirt front. He yanked the man away from Tressa. Buttons popped off Gage’s shirt and flew through the air. His eyes on Gage, Abel ordered, “Miss Tressa, git outta here.” She lifted her skirts and ran from the barn.

Shoulders squared and fists ready, Abel faced Gage Hammond. Only knowing it would ruin Aunt Hattie’s party prevented him from pummeling the young man into the ground. He spoke through clenched teeth. “Miss Tressa isn’t a strumpet, an’ you’d do well to apologize to her an’ to Aunt Hattie.”

“Apologize?” Gage rested his fingertips against his chest, his face innocent. “For puttin’ ten dollars in the pot for the church roof an’ showin’ that little lady a good time?” He shook his head, his familiar grin in place. “I don’t think so.”

“Hammond, money doesn’t buy you the right to force yourself on a woman.”

Resting his weight on one hip, Gage slipped his hand into his trouser pocket. “Aw now, Samms, I understand if you’re jealous. You tasted her first—s’pose that gives you a claim, of sorts. But I didn’t see you biddin’ to win her basket, so that makes her fair game.” Stooping over, Gage snatched his hat from the ground and plopped it on his head. “An’ you gotta admit, of all the gals Aunt Hattie brought to town, she’s the purtiest. So dainty. Fits just right in a man’s arms. . . .” His grin grew. “You know me—only wantin’ the best.”

Abel couldn’t decide what to address first—Gage’s wrong assumption that he’d kissed Miss Tressa or the man’s improper actions toward the young lady. Before he could form a reply, Gage continued.

“Man’s gotta sample the goods before he makes a selection. An’ I admit, that Miss Tressa . . . she passed muster. She’s just as sweet an’ unblemished as a fresh-picked pear. Yessir, when a man’s choosin’ a wife, that’s exactly what he wants—unblemished.” He chuckled and gave Abel a light sock on the shoulder. “You must not’ve wore all the sweet off her when you took your sample.”

Abel bristled, and one fist twitched in eagerness to connect with Gage’s cocky grin.

Gage winked. “Now that I know what I’m gettin’, I’m ready to tell Aunt Hattie that I plan to court Miss Tressa.”

A startled gasp sounded from the barn’s opening. The girl who had accused Abel and Tressa of dallying in Aunt Hattie’s kitchen stood in the wide doorway.

Gage groaned, smacking his leg with his open palm. “Luella, what’re you doin’ out here? Followin’ me?”

“Aunt Hattie sent me to see what was keeping Mr. Samms.” She took one stumbling step forward, her teary-eyed gaze locked on Gage. “You . . . you’re going to court Tressa?”

Gage pulled his lips into a grimace. “Aw, honey, don’t take it so hard.”

“B-but I told you the color of everyone’s ribbons so you’d know where to place your bid. I thought you’d bid on mine, not hers.”

A slow shrug raised Gage’s shoulder. “Now, Luella, I never made no promises to bid on your basket, or for anything else.”

“But—”

“We had us a good time, sure, but that’s all it was. A little fun.”

The girl’s face changed instantly from white and pleading to a furious scarlet, her eyes flashing fire. With a growl, she rushed forward, her hands curled to claw at Gage’s face. He caught her wrists, laughing as he wrestled her hands downward. “Now, stop that, Luella! You’re actin’ like a wildcat ’stead of a lady.” Luella released animal grunts of frustration as she struggled to free herself.

Abel stepped forward and caught Luella around the waist, determined to separate the pair. If anyone was going to bring Gage down a peg or two, it would be him. Luella struggled against Abel’s hold, her hands clawing at his restraining grip.

Gage shook his head, his lips twisted in derision. “This’s exactly why I can’t marry you. Man of my stature needs a cultured bride, not a half-crazy soiled dove.”

At once, the fight left the girl. She slumped within Abel’s arms and stared at Gage with a blank expression. Abel, uncomfortable at witnessing such an ugly exchange, set Luella aside and moved toward Gage. But suddenly the girl dashed between them, her eyes narrowing into slits.

“You’ll regret those words, Gage Hammond. You forget . . . I’ve been out with you at night. I know what you
do
. . . out at night.”

Abel’s scalp prickled.

Gage took one lunging step forward. “Luella, you better—”

She laughed in Gage’s face, then spun and raced out of the barn. Gage thudded behind her. Abel started after them, but then he remembered his purpose for coming to the barn. He hurried to retrieve the sawdust. After he’d dusted that dance floor for Aunt Hattie, he’d seek out Miss Tressa and make sure she was all right. And then as soon as the dancing started and folks were well occupied, he intended to haul Gage Hammond behind the barn and pound some sense into the reckless young man.

When Tressa made it out of the barn, she ran straight for Aunt Hattie. A cluster of townsfolk were standing around the older woman, all talking and laughing, but Aunt Hattie’s expression changed from jovial to concerned when she spotted Tressa. She took hold of Tressa’s shoulders and peered directly into her face.

“What’s wrong, Tressa-darlin’?”

Tressa managed a weak laugh. “I . . . I prayed for deliverance, and it came. Aunt Hattie, I prayed, and God answered.”

The older woman’s graying brows pulled into sharp V. “Girl, you ain’t makin’ sense. Did the sun get to ya? You’re red as a beet an’ limp as a boiled noodle.” Tucking her arm around Tressa’s waist, she turned to the others. “Fred, you reckon you can ask Cookie to get the dancin’ started without me?”

“Sure thing, Aunt Hattie.”

Aunt Hattie guided Tressa behind the house and pushed her onto the bench that sat below the kitchen window. Tressa welcomed the sturdy seat and the protective slash of shade. Although she was now safe, her body quivered in aftershock.

“You all right, darlin’?” Aunt Hattie wiped Tressa’s face with her apron. “Sun’ll do funny things to a person. . . .”

Tressa pushed Aunt Hattie’s hands down. “It wasn’t the sun. It was . . . was . . . ” She gulped. “Oh, I’m so glad I prayed for deliverance!”

The older woman shook her head, her forehead crinkled. “You gotta tell me what you’re meanin’.”

Between shuddering gasps, Tressa spilled the tale of what had transpired in the barn. While she spoke, Aunt Hattie’s lips formed a grim line, her face mottling with red. Tressa finished on a breathless sigh. “God answered my prayer by sending Abel Samms.”

Aunt Hattie pulled Tressa to her chest, rocking her gently back and forth. “God sends us angels when we need ’em, an’ I’m grateful Abel came when he did. But that Gage—” Her tone turned hard, and she set Tressa aside. “I’m gonna have me a talk with his pa.” She stood and headed for the corner of the house.

Tressa leaped to her feet and caught Aunt Hattie’s arm. “Oh no, please! I don’t want to cause trouble!”

Aunt Hattie cupped Tressa’s cheeks. “Darlin’, what Gage did was
wrong
.”

“B-but he didn’t hurt me. Not really.”

“You sayin’ what he did doesn’t bother you?”

The disbelief in Aunt Hattie’s voice made Tressa shrink in shame.

In that moment, she relived the panicked feeling of being pressed to the stall railing while his lips pursued hers. She shuddered and backed away from Aunt Hattie’s touch. “Yes. Yes, it bothers me.” Tears filled her eyes, distorting her vision. She grabbed Aunt Hattie’s arm again. “But I don’t want anyone to know that he . . . he . . .”

Aunt Hattie placed her hand over Tressa’s. “Tressa, you didn’t do nothin’ to hang your head over. Gage is the one in the wrong.”

“But can’t we just pretend it didn’t happen?” Oh, how she wished it hadn’t happened! Her skin, where Gage had pressed his fingers, still ached from the remembrance of his forceful touch.

“Don’tcha see that by keepin’ quiet about what he did, you’re lettin’ him get by with it? You want some other gal to be forced into a corner like he did to you?”

Tressa shook her head wildly. “No, ma’am!”

“Then we gotta tell. You stay here. I’m gonna fetch Brewster, an’ the three of us’ll have a talk.” She whirled around the house with her jaw jutted forward and arms pumping.

Tressa sank back onto the bench and buried her face in her hands. Trembling, she fought a wave of nausea. If Abel Samms hadn’t come in when he did, Gage might have— She swallowed, pushing the frightful thought aside.
Thank You, God, for sending Abel to save me
.

A hand descended on her shoulder. Without conscious thought, she released a cry of surprise and jumped from the bench.

Abel Samms stood before her, his hat in his hand and his face contrite. “I’m sorry, Miss Tressa. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

She pressed her palm to her chest, willing her racing heartbeat to calm. “Oh, Mr. Samms . . . Yes, I . . . I’m quite all right, thanks to you.” Her lips quavered into a smile. “You were my answer to prayer.”

To her surprise, he snorted. “Aunt Hattie sent me for sawdust or I wouldn’t’ve been in that barn.” Then his expression gentled. “But I’m glad I was there. I plan to have a
talk
with Gage. . . .”

She sensed a deeper meaning behind his simple statement. She shook her head. “No, please, Mr. Samms. Let it go.”

He quirked one brow at her.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, a light trickle of laughter found its way from Tressa’s throat. “Aunt Hattie intends to make sure Gage sees the error of his ways.”

At that moment Aunt Hattie swept around the house, followed by Brewster Hammond. Aunt Hattie crossed directly to Tressa and put her arm around her shoulders. “All right now, Tressa-darlin’, you tell Brewster what you told me.”

For the second time, Tressa told her story. Heat flooded her face as shame once again gripped her. Repeating the words with Abel Samms listening in added to her humiliation, but she haltingly yet honestly recounted the events in the barn.

Brewster’s lined face held skepticism. “You sure, little lady? Gage is a mischievous sort, but he’s never had no complaints like this made about him before.”

Abel stepped forward. “Brewster, every word Miss Tressa said is true. I pulled Gage off of her myself. Took a couple of his shirt buttons in the process. An’ from what that other girl—Luella—said, I’m thinkin’ Gage has been havin’ his way with her, too.”

Aunt Hattie sucked in a sharp breath, and Tressa experienced a rush of remorse. The older woman would no doubt assume responsibility for Luella’s choice to sneak off with Gage. Tressa tipped her head against Aunt Hattie’s shoulder and whispered, “Don’t blame yourself. As you told me, you’ve done nothing wrong.”